Hope is Found in the Unseen
In a letter to his father, Jordan Peterson describes the book he was writing—later published as Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief—as “an attempt to explain the psychological significance of history—to explain the meaning of history.”[1] He elaborates on the core discoveries behind his work: most cultures record history mythologically, focusing on the psychological significance of events rather than their objective, empirical details; despite surface differences, all cultures develop along universal lines, shaped by shared neurobiological and psychological structures; and mythological renditions of history, like those in the Bible, are just as “true” as the standard Western empirical renditions, just as literally true, but how they are true is different.[2]
Peterson observes, “The known, our current story, protects us from the unknown, from chaos—which is to say, provides our experience with determinate and predictable structure.”[3] He argues that myths typically begin with a depiction of a stable, idealized state—whether a paradise or a tyranny—into which an anomalous, unexpected, or threatening element emerges. This disruption leads to the collapse of stability, plunging the state into chaos. However, myths also describe the regeneration of stability, illustrating how order is eventually restored, or even redefined, from the chaos that ensues.[4] As Robert Fyall clarifies, “By ‘myth’ I do not mean a story of ‘make-believe’, rather an attempt to embody in narrative the great truth of good and evil, of origin and consummation, of truth and error.”[5]
Peterson reflects on his college years, recounting the vivid apocalyptic dreams that troubled him and his intense obsession with the Cold War, a time filled with existential anxiety. He writes, “I have been trying ever since then to make sense of the human capacity, my capacity, for evil—particularly for those evils associated with belief.”[6]
For the purposes of this post, I will set aside an exploration of the evils perpetrated in the name of belief and instead focus on how believers, particularly as portrayed in the Book of Job, remain steadfast in their faith while navigating a world permeated by evil and chaos.
In line with Peterson’s ideas on how myths shape meaning, I am drawn to the dramatic richness of the Book of Job, with its powerful blend of imagery, poetry, and prose, where the man of faith must confront “crushing questions.”[7] This story was known as early as the sixth century BC, and its message continues to resonate with us today. Peterson writes, “The most powerful arguments for the non-existence of God (at least a good God) are predicated on the idea that such a Being would not allow for the existence of evil in its classical natural (diseases, disasters) or moral (wars, pogroms) forms.”[8] Fyall comments on Job’s experience, noting that through his experience, Job is meant to learn that God must be trusted completely, even though the evidence throughout much of the book seems to suggest the opposite. Additionally, the central issue is not about God’s knowledge, but about His power—specifically, whether the Lord can provide.[9]
What is most striking about the Book of Job is the extent to which crucial information remains concealed from Job himself, even as he seeks to make sense of his suffering. Fyall notes, “There is the sequence of events on earth and there is the reality of the orchestration of these events in the heavenly court. This establishes considerable dramatic irony in that the reader knows, but Job and his friends do not know, what has been happening in the divine council[10].”[11] I also find this reality profoundly challenging to my Western, empiricist mindset, which favors what can be observed and measured over what lies beyond sensory perception. Yet, I believe it to be true—and in that truth, I find a deep reassurance in God’s sovereignty, even amid suffering and chaos. Peterson captures this tension when he writes, “Myth can be more accurately regarded as ‘description of the world as it signifies (for action).’ The mythic universe is a place to act, not a place to perceive.”[12] In this light, the Book of Job is not merely about understanding suffering but about faithfully navigating it, even in the absence of full understanding.
Last week, in my host country, a Christian man was killed in a traffic accident. He was buried in a Muslim cemetery, but the burial did not follow Muslim rites. In response, his body was forcibly removed and dragged through the street. It’s difficult to grasp how such actions can take place. Peterson writes, “Man chooses evil, for the sake of the evil. Man exults in agony, delights in pain, worships destruction and pathology. Man can torture his brother and dance on his grave.”[13] Yet, despite this darkness, it is the unseen that offers me hope. As N. T. Wright asserts, “Jesus has gone ahead of us into God’s realm, His new world, and He is both ruling over the rebellious present as its rightful King and interceding for us at the Father’s side.”[14] In these moments of overwhelming darkness, it is the unseen truth of God’s reign and Christ’s intercession that provides the hope and resilience to endure, even when the world around us seems ruled by evil and chaos.
[1] Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief (New York: Routledge, 1999), 472, Kindle Edition.
[2] Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning, 472, Kindle Edition.
[3] Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning, 18, Kindle Edition.
[4] Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning, 18, Kindle Edition.
[5] Robert Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You: Images of Creation and Evil in the Book of Job (New Studies in Biblical Theology 12; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 27, Kindle Edition.
[6] Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning, xix, Kindle Edition.
[7] Robert Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 37, Kindle Edition.
[8] Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning, 464, Kindle Edition.
[9] Robert Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 37, Kindle Edition.
[10] The biblical divine council refers to a concept found in several passages of the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament), where God is portrayed as presiding over an assembly of heavenly beings. These beings are often referred to as “sons of God” (bene elohim), “holy ones,” or “hosts of heaven,” and they appear to participate in God’s governance of the world—sometimes delivering messages, executing judgment, or observing human affairs.
[11] Robert Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 19, Kindle Edition.
[12] Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning, 9, Kindle Edition.
[13] Jordan B. Peterson, Maps of Meaning, 353, Kindle Edition.
[14] N. T. Wright, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church (HarperCollins, 2008), 113, Kindle Edition.
6 responses to “Hope is Found in the Unseen”
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
I love it that Peterson’s work suddenly becomes clear through the words of my fellow seminarians! You mention that Peterson observes, “The known, our current story, protects us from the unknown, from chaos—which is to say, provides our experience with determinate and predictable structure.”
I am reminded of how fear is at the root of our cultural and political divide (chaos), but I really value your telling about regeneration.
Given that these patterns of opposing or “hostile” forces are cyclical, why do you think people are stuck in fear mode? What does that look like in Mauritania, and how might you help a local overcome it?
Elysse,
Thanks for bringing Job into this. I love how you said “the Book of Job is not merely about understanding suffering but about faithfully navigating it, even in the absence of full understanding.”
You also quote Peterson “‘Man chooses evil, for the sake of the evil. Man exults in agony, delights in pain, worships destruction and pathology. Man can torture his brother and dance on his grave.’”
This makes me ponder that If we remove the idea of a sin nature, then what we have left is science, dopamine. We should get the same dopamine high from doing good as we do when we do evil. Why the propensity for evil?
Do you know what became of the dead body? You say it is hard to grasp how that could have taken place, but given our polarized world today, could you see some churches doing the same thing to a body buried in their church cemetery without their permission and the person was known to be of a different religion?
Jeff, I was going to answer your question about the body in my comment to Elysse, so I’ll put my comment here.
Elysse, you have helped me find hope in those “moments of overwhelming darkness.” You have been someone who has helped me remember that “it is the unseen truth of God’s reign and Christ’s intercession that provides the hope and resilience to endure, even when the world around us seems ruled by evil and chaos.” Thank you for walking with me on this journey.
What was done to that believer’s corpse was horrific. Since you posted this blog, we received word that the police and government leaders in that region have been publicly shamed and fired from their positions. The local Muslim community of all races is speaking out against this unspeakable injustice. We are seeing God’s sovereignty in this situation! He is openly bringing order and justice to this situation. Through this situation, may our friends and neighbors see Jesus as the Prince of Peace.
Hi Elysse, Thank you for your post. Your final thoughts reminded me of the tension between good and evil and that both will be present until Jesus returns. Have you found a good way to navigate chaos when it comes knocking on your life’s door?
Hi Elysse, great post – thanks for bringing in Job. Peterson’s quote about embodying truth in narrative resonated with me as well. Regarding the way the man’s body was treated in your country, do you see any Biblical stories that embody the essence of this injustice?
Thanks Elysse, for this elucidation of a complicated text, and the comparison to Job.
I am also an NT Wright fan though, so I’ll ask this: How do you see N.T. Wright’s concept of Jesus ruling over the present world intersecting with Peterson’s idea that myths provide structure and meaning in the face of chaos? Can these perspectives complement each other in understanding hope amid suffering?